Cole shrugs his shoulders indifferently. “Will go on hunt another time. Am home for a..ah..small time.” He murmured in his normal broken English. Lowering his head to place a kiss on Noura’s temple. “What do you think he wants Miláčku? I can bring home instrument to play.”

"Not Moscow. Or Poland. God no. Might need to make a few stops. Mmm... New York, probably. Jerusalem. I'm not sure about Bloemfontein, but it's a possibility. Why don't you meet me somewhere and we can talk about it. Lunch is on me. As usual."

He lifts a brow. "You're still using money? What a waste." He probably mumbled that last bit under his breath. Either way. A hand slips between his back pocket and the butt of his jeans and he pulls out his wallet, tossing the entire thing into the direction of his baby sister. "Whatever. Go crazy. Bring me back something..." He looks up at her, grin spread wide across his visage, "Interesting."

-swats at stray matches-
-definitely not watching to see if anything has caught on fire-
You don't know that I didn't suffer some sort of temporary amnesia.
I just haven't gotten around to hiring a maid yet.
-rolls eyes-
I just have to find one that isn't shaped like dinner.

She was known to be very friendly, okay yeah pretty much to a fault. But when someone is creepily watching you its kinda....Well yeah creepy! So the tiny women did what any other person would do...no silly not call the cops.Jameson would likely kill her him self. So she Stared back at her!! Then stuck out her tongue at her.

Cole glances up from the security footage in front of him to the familiar voice. A smile given to his wife filled with affection, but he’s still one shady son of a b*tch. Blue eyes comb through the article as he gives an indifferent shrug. ”Drug Raccoon probably gift him rabies. “

Golden brows press together in contemplation. ”You still spoke to …Jazzson? Or is this after rabies.” He knew his wife had still tried to maintain contact with her ex-husband. But he had assumed since the alliance of the giant rat and the raccoon, that whatever friendship they had diminished like whatever society the pair touched.

The start of the month hadn't gone as planned, but nothing had ever since Warsaw. Today was different. Cole was excited and exhumed out the cheerful aura with his quickened steps towards Noura. A strap across his shoulder blade diagonal across his waistline. At the end of the strap? Was an instrument of his home land.

A boyish grin on his lips proud he had found it among the things he sent himself from his home.

" Miláčku. Look!"

He pops his shoulders as his hands glide over the piano key-like side, and instantaneously press the buttons on the opposite side of the Accordion in his possession. He hums lowly with the rhythm of the music, and moves closer to her with each step trying not to break his concentration.

It happens fast whatever it is. A ton of bricks hits his head, and that benevolent light has him seeing the milky way through the back of his eylelids. Death was a familiar friend, but he couldn't die. His eyes snapped open eeriely to the sound of Noura's voice. Both hands clasp over his ears to shield out the phantom noise of gunfire.

No, this wasn't Warsaw. He lets out an aggitated groan, before she follows the far off call of his name. "Noura?" Hands quickly pat over his coat for his phone, but that's been crushed to pieces. A brow arches as he checks for his gun. He's taken aback when neither are accounted for. It's then when he notates the large raw gash across his pale abdomen. Something had gotten him alright. Something he would find and shoot the head off of. "Noura?!"

Elouise was feeling tested. Of all the things to keep her in the dark about, Noura was choosing the wrong man, and the wrong situation. She watches the Read Receipt appear below her most recent message. What the f*ck.

Noura seems to glide across the room, and Jameson wonders if it's all registered in her mind that fast. Though she is quiet, the sound of her pattered steps ring in his ears, and when her arms go around him, his tender flesh nearly stings to the touch. All of this is new. He's confused and conflicted, and if he could have his way he'd have jumped from the tallest building in all of New York City by now. He can't, just so we're clear. He's been instructed not too. Not quite sure he could leave his wife and child behind...

There's a tick in Jameson's mind that hitches with his sisters close proximity. Every nerve ending in his body ignites, warming his otherwise icy body, insisting he lash out at her ferociously. Inadvertently he flexes, tensing beneath her - but finally his arms follow suit and snake gently around her waist.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles, face now pressed into the crook of her neck. There's no emotion laced in his words, and he doesn't weep or otherwise indicate in anyway that he's sad or unhappy. His apology is eerily faint, in that Noura may not even understand what he's apologizing for. "Everything is going to be okay. But before it is.. It isn't."

Jameson pulls away, chestnut eyes finding Noura's in the dim light. There was something darker about them now. Something cruel, and disconnected. His hands find either side of Noura's face, cradling her gently as a twisted grin tugged against his mouth.

This whole situation really is pathetic. Jameson hasn't reached out to Elouise. Hasn't contacted Camille. There's no one that he trusts, and no person that he thinks will understand what has happened. Much like a man with PTSD - except far more intense than one might ever realize, he hides away, unable to get a grasp on his... condition.

He needs Noura. Needs her. The possibility of condescension, 'I told you' so's, and confused tears aside, if there was anyone who could help him...

His sister arrives just as he had asked. Or, rather, demanded. It was funny, how his temperament had changed. 'No' was not an answer he had made room for, well aware that if Noura had assumed it was Jameson himself, that she'd likely jump at the chance to see him. He was counting on it.

"Noura.." The directions he sent her were to a dark apartment; a studio just outside of Hell's Kitchen where he surrendered what little funds he had from a miscellaneous bank account. Elouise wouldn't be able to track it - he'd made sure a long time ago.

From a darkened corner Jameson emerges, and immediately Noura will notice almost everything that is off about him. His hollowed figure. The hunger in his eyes. That smell that only the undead were ever able to omit.

Noura
What do you deserve, Noura?
A ****ing medal? Because you're just as guilty.
You could have gotten him killed. You betrayed your brother, and your friends.
Ollie? Whoever the f*ck he talks to? Cole? You f*cked them all over in your classic path of destruction.

Soleil was just looking for a distraction when she spots Noura Orlav. She glances around for cameras, knowing that Elouise is most likely watching from the monitor room, before sneaking up behind the woman in attempt to make a couple quick bucks.

"You're not supposed to be here," she says when Noura glances back, "Maybe see yourself out before I'm tempted to try again." She smirks, gives a small wave, and watches as she disappears around the corner.

A light brow flexes over oceanic orbs, having been approached by a stranger when she otherwise would have expected to be alone. The girl looks familiar: dark hair, dark eyes, that familiar olive tone to her skin. Cami's eyes narrow, and when the girl speaks, everything becomes clear.

Noura
Stop behaving like you're some random off the street that deserves a cold shoulder. You knew how I felt when you came back. I was very clear. I never forgave you for what happened to Cole, I just moved past it. Or don't you remember? Has your memory seceded in all of your grand justice? Stop trying to blame me for your guilt. I am NOT taking that weight off of you.

Noura
Okay, Noura. Let's play the accountability game. You stay there. Stay with Cole and take accountability for the fvcking catastrophe that you created, and I will work on being accountable for trying to save my god damn sister.

Noura
I should have known you would do this. You weren't my Noura when you came back and you're not my Noura now.

Noura
Don't. Don't fvcking dare act like you know what it was like. None of this would have happened if you hadn't gone rogue, Noura. If you had just listened to me in the first place.. He was as good as DEAD.

Noura
I sacrificed EVERYTHING for you. How can you behave so unfratefully. I would have found a cure. I can do it. I KNOW I can. For you, Noura. If I had held you accountable for your actions you would be dead. I was weak.

Noura
I don't NEED to lie, Nou. The details are as clear in my mind now as they were then. More than half of my team was put down. They were my fvcking family. Cole... Something has changed him. He blames me.

Noura
I'm not going to pretend to know anything about this situation with Cole, or your past, or anything that happened in Poland. But I do know a few things beyond the shadow of a doubt.

Noura
1) Jason loves you.
2) The Order is your HOME.
3) Jameson is your brother, and he will always be here for you. Which means I am too.
I know you don't want to talk to me, and you don't have to respond, but I care about Jameson, and if you being a part of his life is what's best for him, then I support it. So come home.

Noura
You're confused. What do you want me to say? If I had the opportunity I would have put a bullet in your skull. Cole was propped against a fvcking wall with his gizzards strewn about like a god damn war victim. So I put him out of his misery.

Incoming Message Part II
Pro štěstí. Myslíš to vážně? You're trying to make sense out of a catastrophe. Don't. Whatever you're tripping over right now is just Cole trying to get inside of your head. Don't do this, Noura.

Nou
That day, with the safety of the rest of my team at stake? I would have. Jesus Christ, Noura. You killed Lise. You maimed Cole. Oliver survived sure, but the damn kid was never the same. I would have put you down. You weren't YOU anymore.

~*~ If anyone knew Ella by now, she took little time to pounce on the memo from Jameson. Damnit, he wasn't accepting her drink invitation again. Who does that? That didn't detour her for seeking out Noura dragging a keg behind her. ~*~

Brows lift curiously, the beeping of her phone an obvious distraction. She's almost twitching, having a hard time ignoring the way the sound demands her attention over Jameson. It doesn't bother him, really. Just read the message. Hit reply. Get it done with.

She does.

Now his arms fold carefully, one over the other, while his height seems to increase with every step he is suddenly taking towards her. Words have not found him yet, as his mind hasn't quite figured out how he feels about the request. Cure me. Cure me.

He doesn't HAVE the cure yet. He cannot experiment on his own sister. They shared blood. DNA. The majority of their life together. Could he risk losing her again?

"I'm not sure that you understand what you're asking. Why don't you explain to me exactly what you think curing you is going to entail?"

Truly, his consideration had gone past without thought. The things that Noura and him had seen throughout the years had desensitized him to the idea that she might find anything he did shocking in the least. Sometimes he forgot that they had been without each other for years, and that for that extended amount of time he had once thought her dead, lost to the very disease that now lay unapologetically upon the tables scattered around him.

Jameson offers a nod of acknowledgement, as if a small whisp of apology were hanging in the air between them.. even if she had been the one to seek him out at the lab. But her words disrupt any train of thought that had begun down the weathered railway of his mind, at first barely noticed by the doctor but then..

"What.. what did you just say to me, Nou?" Jameson stands from his chair, brows raised in contempt over wide, rusty eyes. "Cure you?"

Cue the eye roll. Even as she stood outside of his laboratory, she still managed to echo through the box with as much sass and attitude as anyone would expect from Noura. Even AS she begged entrance. He wanted to incite the ultimate of irritations; to clap back with a, 'Yeah, okay, what's the password?' But he elects to save the rousing for another time. Instead, he presses now the green button, allowing the door at the top of the stairs to slide open with ease.

Turning now, he makes his way back to his rolling chair, seeking comfort in its worn leather padding as he awaited her arrival. No doubt she would start in as soon as she entered, in true Noura fashion.

Of course, Jameson is IN the lab, where he had spent many of his hours since he returned from Reykjavik. What a mess.. what a MESS. This place was in no condition for visitors. There were limbs, ligaments and coagulation everywhere. The doctor jumps from his rolling chair, hands wiping down the front of his lab coat before he pushes his glasses from the bridge of his nose to the top of his head. The call box was his intended destination, and the big blue button would allow his voice to carry outside into the outer foyer.

Noura
It's not that hard. You're Jameson's sister.
Family is family.
And if he trusts you, and so does Jason, I can get on board.
Scratch that, I am on board. I just kicked out a friend. A GOOD friend. And I didn't bat a lash, because I knew at the very least it would make you happy. Is that sufficient enough proof?

Noura
All I'm seeing is him bursting in on Jason. I don't know what happened after that. Contrary to popular belief, there aren't cameras in your rooms.
Just mine, but that's personal. ;)
KIDDING. KIDDING. OMFG.
That's all I've got, though. And Soleil touching his butt. And they burned a bra together.

Noura
HEY. I don't know what goes on here!
And I don't go through people's stuff! WTF. Jameson took away the master key weeks ago.
At least someone is worse than me in your eyes, right? That's a start! :)

Noura
Okay. I can't condone anything.
But I'll go stay off compound tonight, and whatever you do to anyone while I'm gone...forgiven?
I never actually went through your sh*t, JFC. I was messing with you!
And I'm sorry for trying to murder you. You know that!
...wanna see Rambo's first sonogram?

Noura
I don't know, your brother likes to say it!
At least I didn't sleep with Jason, omfg.
And you don't have permission to kill Winter.
That's a one-way ticket out of here, no matter how much I loooooooooove you. :)

Noura
His parents were drug addicts.
In the same respect, who tf spells Nora 'Noura'?
'Keeping it tight'. Y'know. He's good looking. Fit.
I've seen him naked plenty of times, I should know.
Well, not like, FULL naked. And I was drunk. Does that really count?
Same night Jameson made his move. Omg. MEMORIES.

NOura
False! Your brother picked my wardrobe.
Your brother, who I do dirty, deplorable sex stuff with.
LMFAO. Okay. I'm sorry. I'll stop being a Nazi. If it makes you feel any better, your brother is still a virgin. This was immaculate conception.

Noura
Are you saying I was right about the lingerie? Omfg. What a wicked good guess.
You're welcome to Jameson's credit card, but you shouldn't need it. Because I happen to be in my own bed, that I haven't left all day. Lmfao.

Noura
I was just testing my key.
And then I thought I'd play Goldilocks, and this bed is juuuuust right.
I did you the courtesy of throwing away all of that lingerie you had in the top drawer of your dresser, which I also went through. Red is so not your color.

Noura
That felt like an easy decision.
How are Jason and Karen?
I bought Dinosir his favorite cookies, but I forgot to give them to him before I left. Feel free to pass them off as your own gift, if you want. He'll squee, and maybe pee a little.

~+ A woman with a sense of humor. Rare these days. Usually she was met with passive aggression, but being who she was it didn't surprise her. If anything it drove her conquests onward to add life to her mediocre existence. Ella's upper body jerked slightly with her controlled laughter. A vision of Jameson's abs streak through her mind and caused her cheeks to blaze up. Frantically she lifts her hands in front of her to try to fan the color away between her case of the snigger. +~

~+ Ella turned towards the other woman with a casual sideways cant of her head. Brother? It wasn't rocket science to know it was Jameson. The color returned to her cheeks staining them rose toned. How to answer such a question? She answered it alright, but chuckled soon after. Hopefully this sister had a sense of humor. +~

Apologies. I have my hands full enough with my... Caitlyn. And her children.
-shuffles through some paperwork-That, and chasing your 'sister-in-law' around Moscow, paying reparations and generally making sure she doesn't get arrested or stolen by the Mob.
-offers hand-I'm Lloyd. I'm sure you know that, already. I would be happy to help you sue Mrs. Orlav.

-offers cookie-Wonderful. Cookie?
-clears throat-I was worried everyone was going to end up similar to the Doctor's wife. I was inadvertently drugged my first day here. I thought Kool-Aid was fairly innocent until that point.

Slowly, he pours himself a drink. His eyes tear from his sister momentarily as he monitors the liquid carefully. Not one drop would be wasted on account of any carelessness. The man had no idea whether or not Noura would partake in a drink, but he pours her one anyway.

"No one's dying, don't worry. Although I'm sure you rushed all the way here because you were hoping, yeah?" A small grin grace his lips, but it disappears as fast as it had appeared- replaced quickly with the rim of the scotch glass.

He swallows, a force of air an indication of his refreshment. "I need a third. You know. An administrator." Jameson realizes that it might take a moment for the words to release their weight into the air, but it was there. Responsibility. The chances kept lining up for Noura. Opportunities to prove herself. A dynamic between them that hadn't changed, even now.

"Do you think you're up for the task, Noura?" Expectant eyes flicker, finding her similarly dark irises within the fading light from the daylight outside.

Noura bursts through the door, right on cue. He may or may not have been assessing how quickly she'd show up at the threat of impending emergency. Jameson is almost impressed, save for the fact that he's sure she's only here because she's hoping she gets to kill something.
"Sit.." Jameson motions against the air between him and an empty club chair that lines the front of his desk. Two small crystal glasses await atop a beaten and scratched bronze tray. Set to the side was an unmarked bottle of honey colored scotch, well kept by the tight cork lodged into the mouth of the bottle. "How are things going for you here? Met with any resistance?"

The man reaches for the bottle, his arms stiffening against the constraint of the waffle stitching that his henley offered. Of course he's going to pour them drinks. What kind of monster do you think he is?

She lets out a scoff. Because this woman was bold, damn. An Orlav, no doubt about it. But she had mistaken Elouise as the type that would let go easily. And it seemed the blonde could not be pegged as the carefree drug-addict this time around.

"Stay away from Jameson. Better yet, get out of my city. I have eyes and ears all over Moscow... One step out of place, and I'll have your fugly little head mounted on my wall."

She registers the hand, though she makes no motion to accept it. Skin bristling as the connection was finally made.

Noura. That Noura. The sister.

"If you hurt my husband, I will kill you." Her tone was promising, without a note of hesitation. Jameson was hers. And she would protect her family, even if the source of the problem came from within the fold.

A familiar face. Elouise couldn't quite place it -- not at first glance. Blue eyes squint into slits as she eyes the brunette from afar, her profile soaking in. She wore a questioning visage, head slightly tilted as she observed.

And then it hit her.

The blonde didn't consider herself a snoop by any means, but in moving from Bloemfontein to Moscow, she had become acquainted with most of her husband's belongings, including old pictures. And this woman, whoever she was, was among them. And she did not appear to be a passing figure. No. She was important.

Gangly legs are carrying her over before even makes the conscious decision to approach. Be cool, Elouise. Be cool. Her lips open, and the words spill out before she can process. "...and just who the fvck are you?" Good. Great job, Elouise.